


Hell to Your Doorstep

by NoirSongbird



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Reunion Sex, basically: a Reaper-was-created-by-Talon AU, but warned for out of an abundance of caution, i don't think this is particularly graphic, mentions of torture, the smut just happened, whoops
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-10-09
Packaged: 2018-08-18 03:57:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8148394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoirSongbird/pseuds/NoirSongbird
Summary: When Talon captures Blackwatch Commander Gabriel Reyes, they intend to turn him into a nigh-unkillable super soldier.Unfortunately for them, they succeed.





	1. Chapter 1

It started exactly the way Gabriel had always really hoped he wouldn’t die. A mission gone wrong, in the cold wilds of Siberia. It was supposed to be rooting out lingering aggressive omnics, but Talon had interfered, like they did far too often (and he was getting damned suspicious about that) -- and because he was a sentimental idiot, he had ordered his men back to the transport while he covered their escape. He’d been sure he would be able to break for it,  get to the transport, and get out, because he was _Gabriel Reyes,_ former Strike Commander of Overwatch, current Commander of Blackwatch, survivor of the Soldier Enhancement Program and, if you asked him, all-around badass, and he was _not_ going to die in some frozen tundra. That would just be _anticlimactic._

“Commander, we made it! Come on, pull back, we’re not leaving without you!” A voice crackled over the comm - Santiago, sounding a little winded. “But, uh, make it quick -- I think they know we’re here.”

That sounded like a _great_ idea. Gabriel got to his feet, ducking between trees and firing backwards to keep attackers off his trail.

And then he felt something hit him in the back, and he stumbled, hitting his knees. His thought process began to go fuzzy immediately, which meant there was likely some kind of tranquilizer in whatever he had been shot with.

“Fuck,” he said, quietly, but it was loud enough to be picked up by the comms.

“Commander?” Santiago sounded genuinely distressed.

“Go!” Gabriel ordered, without hesitating. “Get out of here, go - _fuck.”_

A heavy booted foot connected with his skull, and he went the rest of the way down.

 

* * *

 

_It was the first day of the Soldier Enhancement Program, and Gabriel knew coming in it was going to be one of the most important days of his life - either the start of something that would make him into one of the finest fighters the world had ever known, something straight out of a comic book, or the first day of the thing that would kill him._

_When he first met his roommate, all he could think of was that the blue in the Indiana farm boy’s eyes reminded him of the ocean he’d seen the one time his Mamá had gotten together enough money to take him and his siblings on a trip to Puerto Rico. It was the same endless color, and he wondered if he could drown in those eyes as easily as he could have in that ocean._

_“Hi,” the man said, “I’m Jack. Jack Morrison. I, uh, guess we’re roommates?”_

_Never mind the start of the SEP - later, Gabriel would be sure_ that _was the moment everything changed._

 

* * *

 

When Gabriel woke, it was in a dark room that was far too warm to be in Siberia. Even indoors, there was a persistent chill in temperatures that cold. He was handcuffed to a chair, and the bindings were significantly stronger than what he would expect to be used for a normal human. Fine, so whoever was holding him had done enough research to know that it was hard to keep an enhanced soldier imprisoned. That was at least a little impressive.

“I would strongly recommend you cease your struggling, Commander Reyes,” a smooth, masculine voice with an odd, difficult-to-place accent (central Europe, if Gabriel had to take a completely wild guess) said.

“Bite me,” Gabriel shot back.

“So _unfriendly.”_ The voice laughed dryly, and Gabriel turned his head as much as he could to see where its owner was - ah. One of the walls was a mirror. A two-way mirror, he suspected.

“You have me _handcuffed to a chair,_ we aren’t exactly getting off on the ideal foot,” he shot. He might have been afraid, or nervous, but Gabriel was entirely confident that if he couldn’t break out himself - and he wasn’t discounting that possibility yet - rescue was on its way. Blackwatch missions were generally “no backup,” because they had to be conducted entirely off the books, but leaving an agent behind wasn’t Overwatch’s way _or_ Blackwatch’s. It especially wasn’t Jack Morrison’s, and Gabriel was particularly certain that Jack wasn’t the type to leave his _fiancé_ out in the proverbial cold.

“Ah, but if you were not handcuffed to a chair, I strongly suspect you would be attempting to...what is the phrase? _Choke me out,_ I believe it is.” There was something almost like humor in his captor’s voice. Gabriel knew exactly what this was - an attempt to establish rapport, to break down his defenses for when the real interrogation started.

“Come over here, we’ll see if I can still manage it,” Gabriel challenged. There was a laugh from the other side of the mirror, and god _damn_ Gabriel absolutely wanted to wring his neck.

“Perhaps some other time, Commander Reyes. I am sure you will be enjoying Talon’s hospitality for quite a while.” Gabriel strained to hear footsteps, but clearly whatever audio connection there was between his room and the next one had been cut.

Fine. Waiting game. He could handle the waiting game.

 

* * *

 

_The first time he kissed Jack, Gabriel had already been well aware he was in love with him for months. They were knee-deep in a hostage extraction, providing a distraction for the rescue team, and Jack had just nailed the last of their pursuers and was grinning at Gabriel like he was some kind of perfect ray of sunshine as they both dove into cover in case they had missed someone._

_It hadn’t even been a conscious decision, really, he’d just looked into those bright blue eyes and seen that perfect smile and grabbed the front of Jack’s shirt and leaned in, kissing Jack like he’d wanted to a hundred, a thousand times before that moment._

_Jack was still, and Gabriel leaned back and let go and for a long, terrible moment, he was afraid he had just made the worst mistake of his life because Jack was staring at him with wide, startled deer-in-the-headlights eyes._

_“Sorry, I - I shouldn’t have done that,” Gabriel wasn’t one to trip over apologies, but like a lot of things, it was a new trait Morrison brought out in him._

_“Did you mean it?” Jack asked, a little breathless. Gabriel swallowed, considered lying._

_“Yes,” he said, because Jack deserved honesty._

_“Oh,” Jack said, and then he leaned in and his lips were on Gabriel’s and for a very long moment, Gabriel forgot about everything else._

 

* * *

 

It was a very, very long waiting game. It seemed part of the plan was to isolate him - and in a small, dark room, there wasn’t much Gabriel could do to tell how long he had been there or how long it had been since his little chat with the Talon interrogator. He slept, on and off, but his sleep patterns had been irregular for a long time and that was no gauge either, and even then there was only so much of that he could do.Food came at what he was pretty sure was irregular intervals, in small amounts, and he suspected he was drugged to sleep through the first delivery because someone had gone into his cell and uncuffed him without waking him up and he was too light of a sleeper for that to happen naturally.

Isolation was a pretty classic technique; Blackwatch used it too, which meant Gabriel Reyes had written a book, several pamphlets, and an informational slideshow on how it worked. He knew that didn’t necessarily make him immune to its effects, but he liked to think it gave him a better shot of resisting them longer. Clearly Talon was playing with Blackwatch’s playbook - he’d long suspected that was true, but here was firsthand evidence. He’d have to have a talk with Jack about that, when he got back, so they could finally get down to the business of seeing how far the rabbit hole went.

God, Jack. It hadn’t even been _that long_ that they’d been apart, but between the two-week mission and however long he’d been languishing down here, he really just missed his fiancé. Jack had probably gotten the news of his capture already - there was a lot of secrecy between Overwatch and Blackwatch, but even if Jack wasn’t read in directly, Jesse would have been, as his SIC, and there was absolutely no chance Jesse wouldn’t have then immediately run to Jack’s office.

It was a good thing two of the most important people in his life were deeply predictable, because considering what they were doing while he was down here in the dark was much better than thinking about what Talon’s next play was going to be. Whatever it was, it was going to be deeply unpleasant.

 

* * *

 

_There was no question, when they were selecting SEP graduates to join the new UN strike team, which two were going. Morrison and Reyes moved like a single unit, completely in tune with each other, a terrifyingly effective combined fighting force._

_Gabriel Reyes was even described as the “natural choice” to be named Strike-Commander of the small team, because he had demonstrated his battle field acumen and his ability to command respect a hundred thousand times before and after entering the SEP._

_With Jack as his second, at his side, Gabriel was entirely certain there was nothing they couldn’t do._

 

* * *

 

Gabriel knew something was changing when he woke up cuffed to the chair again. That, he suspected, was a bad sign - a worse one was when the door to his cell opened and in walked three Talon operatives - two carrying guns and one carrying a camera. They were all covered head to toe in black tactical armor that obscured anything identifying, which was probably for the best because if he had any idea of how to track them down after, they would discover that the Blackwatch commander’s reputation for ruthlessness was _not_ exaggerated.

“We’re gonna make a little video, Reyes,” the Talon operative behind the camera said, and it weas definitely not the same one who had talked to him through the glass. Irritating. “and we’re gonna send it to Overwatch, so they know we’re good and serious. You’re going to pass on our demands for your release. No funny business. We clear?”

“Fuck you,” Reyes snarled, and the butt of a rifle contacted his face. He felt his nose break, and he was fairly certain a cut opened on his cheek.

“We really don’t care if you look broken down,” the operative said dryly. “Sort of reinforces our position, in the end. So. Our demands are simple, really: Overwatch dismantles its little _task force_ dedicated to stopping Talon activity, and we send you right back to them. Now, smile for the camera.”

 

* * *

 

_Gabriel had been sitting at his desk in the room he shared with Jack at Overwatch’s shiny new Watchpoint in Zurich for the better part of an hour, staring at the new orders he had received, when Jack stepped into the room. Gabriel looked up as soon as he did, and Jack flinched, staring guiltily down at a stack of papers in his hands._

_New orders for him, too, then._

_“Oh,” Jack said, and he couldn’t quite seem to meet Gabriel’s eyes, and that had Gabriel pushing himself out of his seat, “I’m glad you’re here, I think...I think we need to talk.”_

_“About what?” Gabriel tried to keep his voice from being clipped, because he wasn’t angry with Jack, not really, it wasn’t like his boyfriend was the one who had decided Gabriel’s rank was being taken away and he was being shunted off, but damn, he was angry._

_“I...I…” Jack swallowed, and his hands started to shake, and his voice dropped to barely a whisper, “they want to make me Strike-Commander. I said no, I said that was your job, that I was happy where I was, but…” He swallowed, and Gabriel realized he was trying to hold back tears, “they told me it wasn’t up for debate.”_

_“Oh,” Gabriel said, and all the anger rushed out of him and he sank back into his chair. “It’s you, then.”_

_“W-what?” Jack stammered, and wordlessly, Gabriel scooped up his new orders and held them out. Jack stepped forward and took them, flipping through rapidly. “Blackwatch? What is -”_

_“My consolation prize,” Gabriel said bitterly. “A covert ops division. I’ll be doing Overwatch’s dirty work.”_

_“Gabriel, I-” Jack started, and then he stopped, and his shoulders dropped. “I’m sorry. You deserve this job, you were a great commander, I don’t understand why they’re giving it to me.”_

_“Yeah, well, you didn’t do it,” Gabriel said, sharper than he intended, and he watched Jack flinch and curl in on himself a little, and he sighed. “We’ll figure it out,_ cariño _. We always do.”_

 

* * *

 

_“So. Talon wants Overwatch to shut down its task force hunting for them, and they’ll send me back. Jack, I’m guessing this is gonna end up on your desk, so I say don’t you fucking dare, find another way, take these bastards apart - fuck!”_

Jack had watched the video Talon sent a hundred times, over and over again, because even though he hated seeing Gabriel bloody and battered and imprisoned, the video was proof that Gabriel was still alive and fighting.

He had been captured by Talon for over two weeks, and with no word and no ransom demand, Jack had begun to fear the worst, but there he was, grinning like crazy and still fighting.

“What’re you gonna do, Boss?” McCree asked. He had watched the video with Jack - and his relief was obvious, because Gabriel was his mentor, a father figure, and Jack knew if anyone was as worried about Gabe as him, it was Jesse McCree.

“We’re gonna listen to Gabe,” Jack said, even as part of him screamed to give in, to just -- let their operations against Talon wait, for a while, just until they could get Gabriel back, but Gabriel himself would be furious that Jack was even considering the option. “We’re gonna keep taking Talon operations apart, and eventually we’ll find where they’re keeping him and we’ll bring him home.”

McCree nodded sharply.

“Sounds good,” he adjusted his hat, and there was a dangerous gleam in the cowboy’s eye. “Talon’s got no idea what’s comin’ for ‘em.”

 

* * *

 

_The promotion hung between them for a long time, festering like an infected wound, but neither was willing to talk about it._

_Gabriel did his best not to be angry at Jack for the decisions of people higher up than both of them, but he couldn’t help it, watching Jack get all the glory and recognition. Watching Jack get to be the hero, while he and Blackwatch were buried underground and under increasingly morally dubious missions. Gabriel was getting his hands dirty, while Jack got to bask in the sunshine, clean and perfect and heroic._

_He knew he was withdrawing, and he tried to pretend he didn’t see the way it was affecting Jack, like if he pretended it wasn’t his fault those blue eyes would stop being duller and sadder in his presence and Jack would stop dodging around him like Gabe was a time bomb._

_Their first real shouting match came after the first time Blackwatch was nearly revealed to the public - one of Gabe’s agents was caught on a security camera during a hostage extraction, Blackwatch patch clearly visible on his shoulder, and the video was circulating on the internet with the mysterious logo generating all kinds of speculation. It had devolved rapidly, Jack calling Gabriel’s agents incompetent and Gabriel rising to their defense with heat and fire._

_Jack and Gabriel had both been shipped off on missions shortly after, which meant Gabriel didn’t have time to stew over the argument, but as soon as he was back in Zurich his anger returned full-force and when he pushed open the door to their room he was fully prepared to start packing his things and find somewhere else to stay._

_Except Jack was waiting there, asleep in his desk chair, with an armful of amapola flowers, and as soon as Gabriel pushed the door open he jolted awake and stared, wide-eyed, at Gabriel._

_“I…” He swallowed, and then stood, and offered Gabriel the bouquet. “I know you’re probably still angry with me, and you should be. I was an ass. I’ve been an ass a whole lot, lately. And I’m sorry.” He broke eye contact, looking down at the bouquet, which Gabriel carefully took from him. “I’ll understand if you’re done with me, but I still love you, and I want to make this work. So please, tell me how I can help you.”_

_“I love you too,” Gabriel said, a thumb brushing over one of the bright red petals. “But we have a lot to talk about.”_

 

* * *

 

The interrogation Gabriel was certain would happen never came. There were more videos, more demands for Overwatch to cease, more angry encouragements from Gabriel to _keep fighting, take them apart, don’t you dare let them win,_ which resulted in hits from fists or rifle butts but he didn’t care, as long as Overwatch didn’t bend to these bastards.

Instead of questions and answers, after one of the drug-induced overly-heavy sleeps, he woke up in a whole new location - a laboratory, he suspected, or a medical center of some kind - both, probably, given that he was hooked up to what looked like a hundred different monitors.

He had no idea what the hell they were doing to him, but it involved strange injections and IVs and tech he didn’t recognize and _pain._ So much pain, so much more than he had experienced even in the SEP. At first he tried to force himself not to scream, to continue pretending what they were doing wasn’t affecting him, but it was, and eventually he ended up screaming himself raw, struggling against the restraints that held him to the table, doing everything he could to try and escape.

Every time, the voice of the first Talon operative he had interacted with, that smooth bastard with the central European accent, would cut through the haze.

“Now, Commander Reyes, that really isn’t necessary. We’re only _helping_ you, ensuring that you become something much greater than you would have been.”

“Commander Reyes, do stop resisting. You must know it’s pointless.”

“Commander Reyes, be reasonable. This is for your own good.”

Gabriel wanted to rip his throat out, but there was nothing he could do. No longer were there brief periods where he was unbound for food - he assumed he was being nutritionally supplemented by IV. All there was was the neverending blur of pain and experimentation, and the longer it went on the worse it felt. It was like his body was trying to rip itself apart.

The most frightening thing was when they started testing his injury response; as an enhanced soldier, he had always healed faster and been more durable than most, but the effects of their experiments became clear the first time one of the doctor sliced Gabriel’s palm with a scalpel and in a rush of strange black smoke, the wound almost immediately closed.

Gabriel felt a moment of unadulterated horror. They were trying to make him into some kind of...of _thing,_ an even more dangerous weapon if he could heal that quickly, and he had no doubt that as soon as they were done with the physical aspects of this transformation, there would be something worse in the wings.

He was running out of time.

 

* * *

 

_Gabriel resisted the urge to fiddle with the ring box in his pocket, watching Jack across from him, face lit by candlelight. It had been several long, sometimes-difficult years since Jack’s promotion, but they had gotten through it, together, and they were both stronger for it. Hell, Overwatch and Blackwatch were stronger for it - with their Commanders a united front, instead of a potentially divided one, both agencies operated far more efficiently._

_Gabriel was beginning to have his suspicions about some of the people in Blackwatch, but that was a worry for another time._

_Tonight was about him, Jack, and something he should have done a long time ago._

_It wasn’t often that they were both able to sneak away to do something nice - but a private booth in an upscale Zurich restaurant was definitely “something nice.”_

_He’d been watching Jack the entire meal, waiting for a moment that felt right, and...well. They were almost finished, and there wasn’t exactly going to be a better time._

_So Gabriel reached into his pocket and slid out of his chair and onto one knee, and Jack started, and then stared at him with wide eyes, those beautiful ocean blues that had captivated Gabriel from the moment they met._

_“Gabe…?” Jack started, quietly._

_“Jack Morrison,” Gabriel started, “you’ve been at my side for over half a decade, now - through the SEP, through the Omnic Crisis, through Overwatch and Blackwatch and six kinds of hell, and I’m never going to love anyone the way I love you.” He drew out the box, opened it, watched Jack’s eyes go wide and his entire face fill with shocked delight. “Will you marry me?”_

_Jack could only nod, and Gabriel slid the ring on his finger, and he couldn’t help but think things could only get better._

 

* * *

 

When Gabriel woke up back in the room he’d originally been held captive in, handcuffed to a chair and with a camera in his face and a pistol at the back of his head, the best he could muster was a resigned sigh.

“Sorry, Jack,” he said, and then he looked dead at the camera and said “ _te amo.”_

The gun went off, and he slumped forward.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there is smut at the end of this chapter; it uh, got away from me a little, if we're being honest. In any case, enjoy the conclusion!

Jack stared at the video, entire body still and eyes wide with horror. He had watched it maybe a dozen times, because it was looping automatically, and he couldn’t make himself move to stop it, like maybe if it ran enough times there would be some other outcome, something other than some Talon bastard pressing a pistol to Gabriel’s head and pulling the trigger.

Like if he watched it enough times, it would stop being the last time he would hear Gabriel say _“te amo.”_ _“I love you.”_

He didn’t start crying until he felt McCree’s hand on his shoulder; the young soldier reached around him to stop the playback, and that was when Jack’s composure broke and he started wailing, desperately, grief breaking like waves on the shore. Distantly, he registered that Jesse was sobbing too, mourning the loss of a father figure the likes of which, as far as Jack knew, he hadn’t had for a very long time.

Neither of them was going to have much time to mourn, Jack knew that in the back of his head. Once they stepped out of Jack’s office he would have to be Strike-Commander and Jesse would have to start working as Gabe’s replacement as head of Blackwatch. This was all they were going to get.

 

* * *

 

_Gabriel leaned against the two-way mirror that let him see into the interrogation room, regarding the kid inside. He looked young, and scared, and also like he didn’t want anyone to know he was either of those things._

_Gabriel could relate._

_“Why is there a kid in my interrogation room?” He asked, glancing over at Jack, who coughed. Taking down Deadlock had been a joint Overwatch-Blackwatch operation, and it had been nice to have Jack watching his six again. It was one of those jobs he got to feel good about, for what it was, except now there was a child clearly under arrest._

_“He was with Deadlock. Fought me all the way.” Jack said. “He’s a criminal.” Gabriel shook his head._

_“C’mon, Jack,” he beckoned, and Jack rolled his eyes and followed him into the interrogation room. The kid sat up and glared at them, frowning._

_“Hey, kid.” He said. “How old are you?”_

_“Twen-” the kid started._

_“Don’t bullshit me.” Gabriel cut him off._

_“Seventeen,” he said, looking down and away._

_“Oh, good,” Gabriel said, looking straight at Jack, “he’s seventeen.”_

_Jack refused to meet his eyes, but there was something distinctly guilty in his posture._

_Gabriel leaned forward._

_“So, you’re seventeen. That’s a real long rest of your life to be spending in prison,” he mused, sounding bored. Jack jerked his head up, looking over at Gabriel and mouthing ‘what are you doing?’_

_“Yeah, well, I got caught,” the kid said._

_“What’s your name?” Gabriel sighed._

_“Jesse. Jesse McCree.” The kid, Jesse, met his eyes again, and there wa a fire there. A fire Gabriel liked - one he sure as hell didn’t want to see put out in a prison cell. He could have been the one on the other side of the table, if he’d been just a little bit stupider when he was Jesse’s age._

_“Well, Jesse McCree, I’ve got an offer for you.”_

 

* * *

 

By the time Gabriel woke up after being shot, he was back in the medical center. He let out a snarl of pure rage, struggling against the restraints holding him to the table. No, no, _no,_ he was not going to be used like this, played with, twisted into some kind of horrible monster.

Hands on his shoulder shoved him down with surprising strength.

“ _Relax,_ Commander,” that same fucking voice said, and Gabriel made a noise that was more predator than man, “no one is coming for you. They all think we’ve killed you, so there’s no reason for them to look anymore.” He leaned in close, dropped his voice. “But they will see you again, once we are finished. You will be our pet project, our Reaper.”

Gabriel shook his head, furiously. No, _fuck_ that, he was nobody’s _pet project._

All this meant was that he would have to escape on his own.

 

* * *

 

_The first time Gabriel had to pull Jack’s ass out of the fire in an official sort of way was also the last mission Blackwatch did as an organization that did not officially exist. It was Gabriel, Jesse, Genji Shimada - a new recruit, formerly a Blackwatch informant in the Shimada-gumi and now a cyborg reconstructed by Angela’s hand after some kind of terrible family dispute that he refused to discuss - and five other Blackwatch agents, dropping in under cover of darkness to break through a bunch of terrorists who had taken the Overwatch team hostage. They’d been there to provide protection for a protest; it had all gone sideways and the next thing Gabriel knew, he was getting a panicked comm call from his fiancé asking for help._

_He hadn’t hesitated; he’d barely waited long enough to get official approval before he’d grabbed his men, gotten them suited up, and gotten them on a plane. Jesse thought it was “romantic,” and Gabriel hadn’t even bothered to fight him on it. He supposed in a way it almost was, flying off into the dark to save the man he loved._

_Intelligence came pouring in while they were en route, most of it provided by the Overwatch agents being held. They’d been stripped of weapons and everything resembling a communicator, but the tiny bone-conduction earpieces Winston and Angela had designed were extremely difficult to find, never mind recognize as comms. It meant that by the time the Blackwatch team landed on the roof of the hotel where the hostage situation was going down, they knew exactly what they were getting into, and they blew through the place like they owned it. Jesse, Genji, and Gabriel broke into the main ballroom while the rest of the team swept the place to make sure no one was hiding and there were no nasty surprises, and Jesse Deadeyed the six men standing in there before they even had a chance to raise their guns._

_Once they had everyone untied and checked for any serious wounds, Jack dispensed with any pretense and threw his arms around Gabriel’s shoulders, dragging him in for a kiss. Jesse wolf-whistled in the background, but Gabriel couldn’t make himself care. He’d been worried, and here Jack was, solid and warm and very much okay._

_“Thanks, querido,” Jack breathed when they broke apart, and Gabriel smiled fondly at his Spanish. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t terrible either, not anymore. “I knew you’d come.”_

 

* * *

 

It rained the day of Gabriel’s funeral, which if you asked Jack was both appropriate and frustrating. He had adapted Gabriel’s choice of wearing his engagement ring on the same chain as his dog tags, and he spent most of the service playing with it, desperately trying to ground himself through eulogies from their friends, and Gabriel’s family, and from some of Gabriel’s Blackwatch boys, all of which were emotional and heartfelt and heart _breaking._

He was shaking when he made his way up, and had to keep reminding himself to _not cry,_ it would be _stupid and undignified,_ and it would accomplish _nothing,_ and ---

He could feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes when he got up, and he took a breath.

“Gabriel was my fiancé. I’ve loved him for years, ever since we were dumb kids in the SEP, and...we’ve been up and down, but most importantly, through all of it, he was my best friend and someone I could always turn to. I…” He stopped, and he knew he was crying, in front of all these people he should be holding it together for, but...he couldn’t, not anymore. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do without him. Nothing is ever going to fill the hole in my heart where he used to be. I...we were in the middle of planning our wedding, and here I am, giving a eulogy at his funeral. It doesn’t feel right. I don’t think anything’s going to feel right for a long time.” He turned to the casket - the _empty_ casket, because Talon had probably thrown Gabriel’s body out like _trash,_ and it made him so _angry_ to think about it - and rested a hand on the lid.

“I love you, Gabriel. I always will.”

 

* * *

 

 _There was no burying Blackwatch, not when a bunch of tac-geared agents led by Omnic Crisis hero Gabriel Reyes (oh, he’d definitely puffed up a little reading_ that _description spread across half a dozen major newspapers) burst into a hotel, shut down a hostage situation, and swept out Overwatch’s Strike Commander and a squad of top agents all in front of dozens of cameras._

_So there was a press conference, and Jack stood at the microphone and Gabriel stood next to him, and Jack had taken the step to have his engagement ring proudly on display - Gabriel couldn’t wait to see the tabloid headlines about that - so he pulled his off the chain he usually kept it on, right next to his dog tags, to wear on his finger because really, everyone ought to know exactly who Jack Morrison was engaged to._

_“Since its inception as a proper arm of the United Nations,” Jack began, “Overwatch has sat on a secret. It is time we bring that secret to light. Overwatch has a covert operations branch, known as Blackwatch, headed by Overwatch’s original Strike-Commander, my fiancé, Gabriel Reyes.”_

_There was a rush of shocked murmuring through the crowd of reporters._

_“I trust Gabriel and his men with my life, and with the lives of everyone under my command. Their missions are top secret, but they have an incredibly high success rate and an incredibly low rate of civilian casualties. Blackwatch is our SEALs, our Rangers, our Green Berets, to make a few American military allusions.” Jack gave them that winning Indiana farmboy smile, and Gabriel had to bring up a hand to cover his amused huff. “They are the best of the best, and when Overwatch needed help, Blackwatch came in and saved our hides. It’s about time they got the recognition they’re due.”_

_There it was, all out in the open. Gabriel was amazed at how easy it was. Their relationship, Blackwatch’s existence, all of it, laid out in a single press conference, and Jack had commanded it effortlessly._

_“Any questions?”_

 

* * *

 

Gabriel practiced while his tormentors left him alone. He knew what they were trying to do; brainwashing him into compliance with a combination of drugs and psychological conditioning. He was determined not to let it work; he would _not_ be their creature, turned against the people he loved. So while he was alone he focused on the feeling of wanting to come apart, wanting to tear himself to pieces if it meant he could get out, and he began to learn.

Talon had made him into something so much more powerful than they had realized, he was fairly certain, because Talon was not testing his ability to _turn into mist and reform,_ and as far as he could tell they weren’t watching _him_ test it _._ Ah, but that was something he could do now - parts at first, but he quickly mastered dissolving his whole form, in stolen moments when the entire medical bay was dark and he was completely alone. It was...strangely comfortable, to not exist for a moment, to be nothing but swirling shadows before he reformed back on the table. It was the only time he wasn’t in pain, really, because everything else hurt so damn much.

He let them believe he was becoming more compliant, struggling less and less under the often-painful and neverending treatments. The first time they let him out on the training range, gave him body armor and shotguns and let him go through a simulation with a Talon team (what the hell was their _budget,_ honestly, who was _funding_ these assholes) he made sure to follow orders, even as he itched to instead turn on all of them and slaughter his way out. He needed a better idea of where he was, what kinds of guards there were, exactly _how_ immortal they had made him -- all of that was critical information.

So he pushed past the pain, and he listened.

The science team had a habit of talking _around_ him, like he wasn’t there; probably they barely considered him worth noticing, or assumed he wouldn’t care what they were saying. Their mistake.

 

* * *

 

_Standing in front of a number of UN representatives and getting chewed out for going public with Blackwatch was probably the most “worth it” dressing down Gabriel had ever received. He was trying to force himself not to grin the entire time, and every time he looked over at Jack, he saw the tightness in his shoulders that meant his fiancé was undoubtedly suppressing laughter._

_“Sirs,” Gabriel said finally, when there was finally a break, “no Blackwatch operations have been compromised, no agents have been placed in danger, and all the public is aware of is that Overwatch has a covert operations division. Many of the people we’re fighting are already aware of this, and by letting the information out our way, Jack and I just saved you all a PR disaster when this blew up underneath us all because of a_ real _botched operation or because some clever fucking hacker decides to break in and dump Blackwatch documents all over the internet. So, you’re welcome.”_

_He grabbed Jack’s arm and pulled him out of the room. They could take whatever consequences came - because they’d be doing it together._

 

* * *

 

Jack tried to keep going. He did. He pushed himself as hard as he could, and he took particular glee in working with Gérard and Jesse to shred into Talon. They were even doing _well,_ driving them _back,_ pulling them apart. Nothing would bring Gabriel back, but this was the closest he thought he was going to get. He couldn’t save Gabriel, but he could damn sure avenge him.

Except then it got inevitably, irrevocably worse.

Amélie Lacroix vanished, and it was like losing Gabriel all over again, except this time there were no videos, only three weeks of silence and then, in a raid on a Talon facility, they found her, huddled in the corner of a cell, and when she saw that Lena was the one carefully pulling her out, she started to cry.

(Jack was a little angry, at first. It seemed so unfair.)

Then there was the horrible morning they found Gérard dead in his bed, Amélie gone, and no evidence of a break-in. The seemingly obvious answer was almost too terrible to contemplate, until Talon’s new sniper, the Widowmaker, was revealed to be Amélie.

She killed Ana, and Jack felt more and more alone by the day.

He was tired.

Still, he kept going, because Gabriel wouldn’t have wanted him to give up. When he and Jesse began to discover corruption in Blackwatch, he started working to root it out, because he would _not_ see Gabriel’s legacy tarnished.

They were too late. Jack and Jesse were in a meeting when it all went sideways, when Talon soldiers wearing Blackwatch uniforms stormed the Zurich base and there was brief but brutal all-out civil war.

The building came down on them, and for a terrible moment all Jack could think was _‘at least I’ll see Gabriel again.’_

He did not die.

He dragged Jesse McCree from the rubble, leaving him where he was sure to be found (though he was almost certain Jesse’s left arm was a loss, it looked absolutely mangled and Angela could only do so much) and ran.

He was fairly certain that made him a coward.

He watched, in the days after, the media coverage as his friends searched for him, as hope slowly waned, as he was finally declared killed in action. Watched as the PETRAS Act was passed, as Overwatch was disbanded.

Talon had killed Gabriel. Talon had destroyed Watchpoint: Zurich, had destroyed _Overwatch._

Talon had taken everything from him.

All Jack had left was revenge.

 

* * *

 

The days - weeks, months, years? - blurred together in the Talon hellhole Gabriel was being held in. The experiments got more invasive, more brutal, more agonizing, and it became harder and harder for him to resist simply giving in and letting them brainwash him properly. (Did it really matter? Did it? Did _anything_ matter at all? Why _wasn’t_ he just giving up? Wouldn’t it be better?)

(It did, it all mattered, he had to stay strong so he could _escape_ and see Jack again.)

He had not been allowed any kind of access to the outside world, so finding himself in his original cell with a TV set up was a novelty.

“There is something you should see, Reaper,” the head scientist said. He had stopped being Gabriel Reyes to them a long time ago; another tactic of depersonalization, he was sure. “We are almost prepared to reveal you to the world; before we do, I want you to understand what your mission will be.” The TV clicked on, and Gabriel frowned. It looked like the feed from the security camera in Jack’s office in Zurich ( _how did Talon have access to that?)_ and there was Jack, at his desk. He looked...he looked terrible, and something in Gabriel’s chest lurched.

(Jack had _left him here_ \-- no no _no,_ Jack thought he was _dead,_ Jack had been mourning for God only knew how long.)

The door slammed open, and there was Jesse (still wearing that stupid hat, good to see some things never changed) and he looked panicked. There was no audio, and the angle was wrong to even attempt to read their lips, but Jack sat up, and then they were both booking it down the hall.

The cameras followed them, through several confrontations with -- with _Blackwatch agents?_ No, no something was terribly wrong there -- and then everything shook and the feed cut and Gabriel felt a lingering sense of horror.

“Our men successfully infiltrated Watchpoint: Zurich. They planted a network of explosives, and the building was brought down.” A huffed sigh. “ _Unfortunately,_ Jesse McCree survived. Jack  Morrison did not. And McCree will not for long, because we are going to send you to clean up. To end Overwatch’s sad story once and for all.”

Gabriel barely heard the last part of what he was saying.

_Jack Morrison did not survive._

Jack was _dead._ Talon _killed him._ Talon _almost_ killed McCree, who was Gabriel’s son in all but name.

In that moment, he forgot all his careful planning, forgot all his concerns about waiting for the right moment to escape. His world narrowed to a frightful clarity.

Talon killed Jack. Talon had ripped the heart out of Overwatch. Talon had infiltrated Blackwatch and used _his people_ to do it.

Talon was going to _pay._

Gabriel let his body dissolve, misting through the walls of his cell and into the room beyond, and he finally looked at the face of the man who had been leading his torment for months.

“Reaper,” he said, “what are you doing,” there was a tremble of fear in his voice.

Gabriel knew his shotguns as well as he knew himself. He knew every part and piece, how they fit together to make them work. He had phased out and recreated himself and his clothes before, but he had never tried a separate object.

Time to try new things.

He focused, and in a breath there was the familiar weight of a pair of shotguns in his grip.

“Put those down!” The man squawked, and Gabriel gave a dark little laugh.

“Doctor, be reasonable. This is for your own good.”

He pressed a shotgun to the man’s chest, pulled the trigger, and watched him fall.

A bright orb of energy hovered over the mangled corpse, and Gabriel extended a hand, touching it. It flowed into him, and he took a deep breath, feeling more clearheaded and solid than he had in a long time.

He knew the way to the munitions storage.

Talon had brought down one of Overwatch’s Watchpoints; he would bring down one of their bases. Seemed a fair trade to him.

The poor fuckers Talon had on guard had no idea what to make of him. He was smoke more than he was man, a whirling mass of _death._ With every kill, he reaped a soul (that was what they had to be, it was the only thing that made sense, and he laughed darkly at that) and he felt stronger. His wounds healed rapidly, and nothing did more than briefly slow him down. Talon had made him into an implacable man, and he was turning the results of their research on them.

It felt _good._

 

* * *

 

Jack Morrison crawled out of the ruins of Watchpoint: Zurich and made himself into _Soldier: 76_.

Gabriel Reyes crawled out of the ruins of a Talon base and made himself into _Reaper_.

 

* * *

 

Years later, two vigilantes met at the same Watchpoint in the middle of the Sonoran Desert, and they clashed, pulse rifle and shotguns trading blasts back and forth. It was a pitched fight, and eventually weapons were abandoned fro hand-to-hand combat, and both supersoldiers were surprised to find that their opponent was a match for them.

“Who _are_ you?” 76 growled, and Reaper laughed.

“I could ask you the same question, old man,” he taunted, and 76 leapt forward, slamming bodily into him hard enough to take him off his feet. God, it had been _so long_ since someone had been able to keep up with him in a fight -- Reaper would admit that he was enjoying it a little, until a gloved hand hooked under his mask and ripped it off. He swore, and threw up a hand to cover his face - he was too well-known, even now, to risk some fucking vigilante knowing his identity.

Apparently, he’d been too slow.

“Gabriel?” There was an edge of hysteria in the rough voice behind the mask, and 76 grabbed his arm, prying it away from his face. Reaper let him, because there was something almost familiar in the sound of his old name, the one he’d had to abandon because Talon took it away from him. “Is that...no,” the soldier shook his head, but he let go of Reaper’s arm to reach up and take off his own mask.

Reaper felt the breath leave his lungs, and in that moment, he was Gabriel Reyes again.

He knew those eyes, bright blue like the Midwestern sky, so familiar it hurt. The face was different - older, with scars that hadn’t been there the last time Gabriel had seen him - and the hair was white now, instead of sunshine blond, but...

 _“Jack?”_ It wasn’t possible, Jack was supposed to be dead -- but then, so was he. Had Talon been wrong? He pushed himself up into a sitting position. “I saw -- they showed me what happened in Zurich, I thought…”

“They _shot you in the head,”_  Jack sounded desperate, agonized. His voice was rougher, but familiar, so very familiar. “I watched it a thousand times, there was no editing, they _shot you in the head,_ how are you _alive,”_ hands came to rest on Gabriel’s cheeks, and then moved down, touching and gripping like Jack needed to confirm he was real and solid. Gabriel reached up to rest his hands on Jack’s hips, taking his own confirmation that this was real and not some sort of particularly strange, desperate dream.

“They’d been experimenting on me,” Gabriel said quietly, “they took supersoldier healing and enhanced it even further,” he moved his hands away, in front of him, and let one clawed gauntlet fade away into mist. He dug the claws on the other into his hand until he bled, and Jack made a noise of shock, reaching to pull them apart - but by the time Jack’s gloved hand wrapped around his wrist, the injuries had already smoked over and healed.

“So you...what, just...kept going?” Jack asked, fingers running over the spot on Gabriel’s palm where the injury had disappeared. Then, it seemed to dawn on him, and he stared up at Gabriel's face, guilt written all over his. “Months. You were there for _months,_ and we just _left you,_ Gabriel I’m _so sorry.”_

“You thought I was dead.” Gabriel reminded him. “I thought _you_ were dead. I…” The other gauntlet faded away into black mist, and Gabriel reached up to cradle Jack’s face. He leaned in, and for the first time in years, he pressed his lips to Jack’s. The soldier let out a tiny groan, and then Jack’s arms were around his shoulders and they were kissing like they were twenty and desperate again, like they would never get enough of each other. Jack made a choked little sobbing noise, and Gabriel broke the kiss briefly to let him breathe. There was something wild and needy in Jack’s eyes, and he stood up, offering Gabriel a hand.

“I have a hotel room. It’s nothing fancy, but it’s...I missed you. I _need you.”_

Gabriel nodded. Nothing else mattered right then. They could come back to this Watchpoint later, together, find what they were both looking for. He suspected that once they really got to talking about it their goals would line up perfectly; that was a discussion for after he’d reacquainted himself with every inch of the man he’d been missing for so long the loss felt like a part of him.

If you’d asked Gabriel how to get from the watchpoint to Jack’s motel, or even what motel it was, he probably wouldn’t have been able to tell you. They didn’t even need to go to an office, just to a door that was drive-up, and as soon as they were inside Gabriel got right back to kissing Jack breathless. He unzipped the soldier’s jacket, shoving it off and letting it hit the ground, and his fingers found the shape of something very familiar on Jack’s chest.

He carefully gripped the ring, and felt a pang in his chest.

“You kept it,” he said softly.

“Of course I did,” Jack replied.

“They took mine, I think,” Gabriel admitted quietly. Jack made a tiny angry growling noise, but then he shook his head and leaned in to steal a brief kiss.

“We’ll get you another one,” he said, and Gabriel dragged him in for a much longer one. He peeled Jack out of his clothes, backing him up to the bed until Jack fell onto it and Gabriel could slide off his underwear and throw it aside. Jack drew his eyes up and down Gabriel’s body and huffed. “You planning to take anything off?” He asked, and Gabriel just grinned, letting his clothes dissolve into so much shadowstuff. “Oh,” Jack said, very quietly. “That’s, um. Sort of hot, actually.”

“Only sort of?” Gabriel laughed, a little darkly, and then he pushed Jack onto the mattress and climbed on top of him. “Is this one of the places that provides complimentary lube and condoms?”

“I haven’t checked,” Jack admitted. Gabriel sighed, purposely overdramatically.

“Making me do all the work, _querido_ , how terrible.” He reached around Jack for the drawer, and - yes, there they were, sachets of lubricant and a condom. “This _is_ one of _those_ places, ha,” he laughed a little, but tore open one of the lubricant packets and squeezed it onto his fingers.

He was gentle in working Jack open, because it had been _so long_ for both of them, and he wanted to make it last. By the time he had three fingers in, Jack was a mess, writhing and pleading.

“Gabriel, please, _please,_ I need you, just - just _fuck me,_ I can’t, don’t bother with the condom just _fuck me,_ ” Jack gasped, and Gabriel slid his fingers out, making Jack keen with the loss. He grabbed another packet of lube, tearing it open and spreading it over his cock, and then he carefully, slowly slid in, leaning down to capture Jack’s lips in a desperate, needy kiss that he held until Jack broke it. “Move,” Jack demanded, bucking his hips.

“I missed you so much, _cariño,”_ Gabriel said, and he began to roll his hips, fucking into Jack.

“I missed you too.” Jack said, and Gabriel could see tears sparkling at the corners of his eyes. He leaned in to kiss them away, and Jack let out a tiny sob underneath him. “When I thought I lost you, I didn’t…”

“Shh,” Gabriel cut in. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” He picked up from his languid pace, fucking into Jack faster to ground him in the present. He slid a hand between them, wrapping it around Jack’s length and stroking in time with his thrusts.

“Gabe, Gabe, _Gabriel,”_ the sound of his name on those beautiful lips was all Gabriel wanted, in that moment.

“ _Jack,”_ Gabriel moaned, and he could feel himself coming to his peak quickly. It had been too long for him to drag it out, for both of them. Besides, they had the rest of forever, now. “Jack, I’m close,” he gasped.

“Inside, inside _please,_ ” Jack didn’t have to clarify, Gabriel groaned and moved faster, angling his hips to hit Jack’s prostate. Their bodies knew how to come together even after years of separation, it seemed.

Jack came first, with a loud, desperate moan, legs locking around Gabriel’s waist and pulling him in deeper as he spilled. The aftershocks of Jack’s orgasm were enough to pull Gabriel over too, and he had to catch himself with both hands to stay something approaching upright. He leaned in and stole a brief kiss, drinking in the sight of Jack looking beautifully fucked-out in the afterglow, and then he pulled out and slipped into the bathroom just long enough to grab a washcloth and wet it to clean both of them off.

For the first time in a long time, Gabriel curled up in Jack’s arms, right where he belonged.

 

* * *

 

Gabriel’s always fitful sleep schedule had been ruined further by whatever Talon had done to him, and so he only slept a few hours that night. The rest of it...the rest of it was spent curled up against Jack, stroking his hair, watching his face as _he_ slept, and waiting for him to wake up. Finally, those blue eyes fluttered open, and Gabriel let out a fond little sigh.

“Te amo,” he said, and Jack made a tiny noise that was half surprise, half pain.

“You’re real,” he said, pressing closer to Gabriel’s chest. “I thought you might have been a dream.”

“Not a dream,” Gabriel promised. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere. Not this time.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at [noirsongbird](http://noirsongbird.tumblr.com/), come talk to me~


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